


asymptotics

by arachonteur



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 14:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arachonteur/pseuds/arachonteur
Summary: It's that point in the night where people slowly pack their bags, and move their way home, but these two have trouble leaving, as usual.





	asymptotics

It's late, the skyline built piecemeal out of the silhouettes of trees, still clinging to their gilding leaves, cast against an orange backdrop. On the front porch of a house that is far too decrepit to be her own, a stocky woman stands. She fumbles around in her pocket for something - she taps against the tic-tacs, her phone, a scrap of paper with a fake number written on it. She frisks herself a lot, on a quest for what she's looking for, bits of tobacco shaking out of the unlit cigarette onto the rail. She looks up to the sky, feeling her breast pocket for it as the filter falls into her mouth, and her cough to get that filter out is rough, and another cough follows it, as she leans back, almost falling over.

A surprisingly gentle hand touches her back, steadying her before she falls, and she freaks out, in the opposite direction. 

"Oh. Vriska. Uh, hey!" She quickly attempts to regain her composure, as Vriska looks down at her. "You almost gave me a heart attack." 

"Hey Jane, sorry for scaring you. I thought you left hours ago." She chuckles, kicking her feet sheepishly against the wood of the porch. 

"No, not really... it just got really loud inside, you know? I wanted to chill for a moment, and before I knew it, everyone left." Jane looks dejected, as she looks over the sidewalk, which not more than 15 minutes ago, became the way home, where friends went from being the people they knew to a hazy imprint on the horizon. "You wouldn't happen to have a lighter, would you?" 

"Nah, I traded all my lighters for the praise of some guidance counselor dude. I've got a chip, though that doesn't light things." Vriska looks down, and kicks an empty cup down the stairs before pulling a piece of gum and sticking it in her mouth. She looks back at Jane, staring off into the horizon, her cigarette still hanging from the edge of her lip. "I've got you, don't worry." She holds her hand forth, a small fire burning from the tip of her finger. Jane reaches out and holds Vriska's hand, Jane's hand soft, and warm against the grime and frigidity of Vriska's. It's jarring, almost, and just holding each other's hand is nice, in a way that they both long for, but much like Vriska's eagerness to light Jane's cigarette, they both decide to not mention it. "Consider it the benefits of being a Light player." 

"Thanks, Vris. I thought chips was just for alcohol though?" Jane takes a long drag, and coughs again. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, I mean. It's your business, not mine."  

"Yeah, it's not sanctioned or sponsored or anything, I'm doing the chip thing for myself." Vriska says. "You doing okay though?" The both of them know it's just a pleasantry, especially regarding the circumstances of their mortalities, but Jane smiles and nods before coughing again. Just like they both know it's a pleasantry, they both understand, they're not going to make the coarseness that made her cough so roughly any better, unfortunately. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You'd be hard-pressed to take down such an infinitely powerful Life player such as myself down with just a cigarette." She takes a deep breath. "Good luck convincing paradox space that'd be just." 

Vriska chuckles and sits at the top of the stairs down to the yard, kicking off her shoes. The two shoes tumble unevenly down the stairs with echoing thuds, causing something to skitter beneath the porch. Jane follows suit, but she elects to keep her shoes on. 

"I wish I knew you were still here, I would have brought you something." Vriska says, watching as the smoke from Jane's smoke rises up, dispersing, and becoming one with the rest of the air. She takes a deep breath, the smell of Jane's smoke, and to a lesser extent, Jane, mixed delicately with the smell of dying foliage and spilt spirits an irregular, but welcome comfort to her. "It's nice having you here." 

"Pfft, Vriska. If you want to make out, we can just do that." Jane laughs and while she can't see it, Vriska feels that ":B" emoticon that she always uses. Jane puts her cigarette butt out, reaching over for the cup Vriska kicked around earlier to stow it away, careful not to make more of a mess of Vriska's porch. "While we're at it, can I get a light again?" 

"Take all you need, I've got an infinite amount." Vriska spits her gum into the cup and holds out her hand again, eager for Jane's touch, but she and Jane both know she's not going to just say that. Her hand is just as soft as the last time, and Jane slips Vriska's fingers a kiss, and Vriska seems to not notice at all. The two of them look up at the sky, sighing as the first stars dip their toes into the water of the night sky, eager to adjust to the cold and get swimming. 

"There are so many stars here." Jane says, unexpectedly. "It's absolutely nothing like home, but..." She trails off, taking a drag, blowing smoke into the air. "I don't know, I kind of like it. Washington didn't have many stars. Light pollution and whatnot."  

"Yeah, Alternia had the two moons, but beyond that, there were just. So many stars. Did you know our zodiac had 48 signs? I always thought that was weird. Especially how our signs became your zodiac. That was a weird thing to happen too. Alternia was a lot more sparse with people though, I think. So I guess it makes sense there wasn't as much light pollution." Vriska trails off too, realizing she was going nowhere with that. 

"I always thought I knew what Alternia was like, growing up under Her Imperial Condescension, but... I guess not." Jane says, kicking off her shoes. She kicks her feet unevenly against the back of the stairs, never quite in sync. It's the only sound for a while, long enough that the stars have gotten used to the night sky, and invited their friends in. A cricket chimes in, the first note in a symphony of night life. 

Jane and Vriska sit in relative silence for a long time, Jane gently holding Vriska's hand as they quietly enjoy each other's presence. Jane occasionally stops to light another cigarette or drop another butt into the cup, but the two of them are too comfortable with the silence to say anything new. 

A chill sets in, as if it were testing the two's will to stay outside. As a measured response, the two lean closer next to each other, Jane resting her head on Vriska's shoulder. In the quiet of the night, the two of them feel so infinitely small, and to them, that's okay. After what feels like hours, the silence between the two is broken by a squirrel, nibbling at Jane's shoes. 

Vriska reaches over to toss the cup full of cigarette butts at it, scaring it off, and looks at her surroundings again, at her shoes on the patio, at the trees in the horizon, the silhouettes now indistinguishable from the night that surrounds her. She puts out the light on her finger and looks over at Jane. She's out, just like the light on Vriska's finger, and Vriska hoists her up and bringing her inside. She gently sets her on her couch, covering her with a light blanket, careful to not wake her. She picks up the cigarette container, too, hoping that kind of warmth would keep her company while Jane rests, but she finds the carton empty.


End file.
